


Candle in the Wind

by CplCrimp



Category: Underdog (Cartoon)
Genre: ''major character death'' not really, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Kidnapping, Canonical Character Death, Drunk Sex, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, F/M, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Not A Fix-It, Past Character Death, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression, Suicide Attempt, Typos, Unplanned Pregnancy, i hope no one ships lewis and underdog, lewis is just a big dumbass, squints TECHNICALLY, tho not necessary unwelcomed!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-18 23:54:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 16,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18128186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CplCrimp/pseuds/CplCrimp
Summary: Lewis N Purebred, Polly's son, has been obsessed with that superhero Underdog for most of his 14 years. Polly insists that Underdog died to his own hand, she's got the newspaper clippings. Lewis denies them being true- plus he keeps getting told there's a look-alike in Ravenswood, West Virginia and decides to check it out for himself.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> suicide tw

“Shoeshine?”

Sweet Polly Purebred knocked furiously on his door, getting more nervous by the second.

_ “Shoeshine?”  _ she called again. She tried to look through the peephole as best as she could, furiously twisting the knob, cursing softly to no one in particular. Shoeshine hadn’t been doing well mentally for months- maybe  _ years  _ but he’d only stopped caring about his composition recently. Either way, for someone who would always yell “just a second!” or leave something on the door to explain he was out, no answer or sign whatsoever was both strange, and worrisome, and compared with his recent history very scary.

Fed up with waiting, Polly quickly dove a hand into her purse, nervously picking out the extra key Shoeshine had given her just in case. She absolutely hated doing this- but at that moment she was too scared to worry about the repercussions if Shoeshine  _ was  _ alright. As soon as she stepped in she could immediately tell something wasn’t.

_ “Lewis?” _

That was a name she used sparingly. Shoeshine  _ always  _ answered when someone called him Lewis- angrily, but responded.

But there was no response. At any other moment Polly would’ve brushed it off as Shoeshine being unable to hear her, but not this time.

The couch was as messy as always, coffee table covered in used napkins and almost-empty bowls of ramen and multiple open Nutellas and an empty box of multi-grain Cheerios.  _ Inspector Gadget  _ was mutedly playing on the TV, and a  _ Get Smart  _ vhs seemed queued to play next. His cape, which Shoeshine would always use as a blanket, was nowhere to be seen.

Polly dropped her purse on the couch, calling for him again, using Underdog this time. It seemed relatively normal, but much too quite for Shoeshine to be around- or worse, be  _ alive.  _ Polly sighed, holding back tears, swallowing despite the lump in her throat. She made her way to the kitchen. There were empty beer bottles everywhere. Shoeshine barely even knew how to open a pop bottle much less a beer bottle.

His pill bottles were gone. The standard medicines, the tylenol, the tums, the advil- untouched. But his prescription bottles, his testosterone pills, his antidepressants, and even his special panic attack medicine, which he absolutely hated, where gone.

Polly felt her throat dry up and her heart sink to her stomach. Shoeshine already had a history of overdose, and mixed with alcohol- Polly let out a choking noise at the thought. She couldn’t decide where to check next. His bedroom was his favorite place but in the bathroom you could cause more blunt force to yourself- but then again Polly didn’t know what he kept in his bedroom. Letting her panicked tears fall now, she headed to the bathroom. If there was blood she was expecting it.

Empty. She’d call it pristine if not for the fact of the remaining vomit on the toilet seat. Shoeshine also let Polly know of his history with eating disorders, but promised he was getting better. Polly wouldn’t let herself get close enough to expect how recent it was but her heart ached at the thought of how much Shoeshine felt unable to open up to her. And it ached even more at the thought that there was only one more room. All hope had drained from her mind as soon as she saw the pill bottles gone.

The longer she waited the more she was dragging out the inevitable. She’d never know unless she went and she knew she wouldn’t be able to bear the anxiety that her best friend might be a rotting corpse in his bedroom and no one would ever know. The greatest superhero in Manhattan would be dead and no one would know.

Resisting her own urge to vomit, tears rolling know her face, she made her way to the final closed door as fast as her beating, tingling, overheating body would let her. Wanting to go with her good will, she raised her hand to knock on the door. Instead of any name Shoeshine might’ve once called himself all she could let out was a single high-pitched whimper. She poorly attempted to collect herself- just in case- and swung open the door.

**_“SHOESHINE!!”_ ** she immediately screamed upon seeing the useless lump that was his body. She ran up, falling onto her knees. 

Shoeshine’s glasses were right next to his face, one side broken and one lense cracked. He was huddled under his cape. As Polly went to remove it and put her college course of first aid into practice, she saw all the pill bottles, haphazardly open and poured about. There was also an empty bottle of beer. Polly almost had the thought that he was just having a hangover before she checked the pulse of his neck. Nothing.

That’s alright, she figured, there were more places. There was  _ another  _ place. His wrist didn’t show any better. The veins in his wrists were barely visible anymore. In panic she placed her hands directly on his heart. Nothing. Against his nose. Nothing.

Crying loudly, she laid her head against his shoulder. Thinking about everything they’d ever done. Did he know how much he was loved? Did he know how much Polly loved him? Did he know, but not listen? As she looked back up again to start calling the police and TTV, she noticed a ball of paper tightly in his hand.

Regretfully, slowly, she took it from his hand and made it as flat as possible.

_ “Hi Polly,”  _ it started,  _ “I have no doubt you’ll be the one finding my body and presumably this note if I don’t misplace it. You can probably guess why I did this. I’m sorry. You know I always run from problems I can’t solve and this is one I’ll never be able to. Even doctors have lost faith in me, it wasn’t your fault. Don’t call the police. The staff will find me or I’ll sink into the carpet and become a ghost. I’m not rich enough to have a will but you can have anything you want. If you do decide to bury me do it with my cape. If you do decide to bury me though, wait a few days, I might just be unconscious. Don’t call 911. If I wake up in a hospital I will overdose again and I will blunt force myself against anything I can find. Take pictures of this scene. Weird shit might happen. You’ll need it for people to believe you. _

_ “Polly I love you so much. None of this was your fault. It’s all mine. I’m sorry I didn’t let you help me get better. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you  _ _ more. _

_ “After a few days let the presses know. Everything. It was an overdose. I’m Shoeshine Boy. The medicine. The sad.  _ _ Everything. _

_ “I love you Polly, I’m sorry it had to come to this. -Lewis N Clark Jr (Shoeshine/Underdog.)” _

 

\--

 

Respecting his wishes, Polly waited a few days before calling anyone. She called her job to tell them she wouldn’t be able to come in for a long while- death in the family. She locked his apartment door and slept on his couch. That apartment would never be the same and she knew it.

The next morning Polly noticed a p.s. on the back of Shoeshine’s note she hadn’t seen before.

_ “If my corpse is gone don’t worry. It’s the powers. They came from lightning. The lightning last night took them and took me. -Lewis.” _

She quickly ran into the room. Gone, cape and all. The pills and bottle were there, untouched. There was a line outline of where he was on the floor. It wasn’t chalk.

Choking up, she called authorities, and layed down on his bed, crying again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alcohol & sex tw

Years had passed. Polly was thirty now. Polly was alone in a bar now. She sat stirring her drink with the stem of her cherry.

“Is that an old-fashioned?” asked a deep, soothing voice. 

“Yeah. Wh-” she looked up. He looked just like Shoeshine without his freckles.

“You alright?” he asked.

“I- uhm,” she further analyzed his face, choking back tears, “You remind me so much of a dead friend.”

“That’s unfortunate,” he said, “I’m sure wherever they are now they’re very happy.”

“I sure hope so.”

The silence between them was so intense you could cut it. Polly ultimately decided this man wasn’t dangerous. Maybe she was too depressed to be on her best judgement, but it’s not like the trusted the man either.

“...would you like another drink? On me?”

Polly went into alert mode harder than she had the rest of the night. “Sure.”

The man raised his hand and placed the order, Polly keenly watching every movement. The drinks were placed in front of thm, the man quickly grabbing his, offering a clink. Polly rolled her eyes, accepting.

“Cheers,” he muttered, taking a hearty drink before placing it back down. “I don’t believe I’ve introduced myself,” he reached out his hand to shake Polly’s, “My name’s Taptap Clark, I’m a jeweler, I work at Typanni’s. All my friends call me Taps.”

Polly accepted that as well. “I’m Polly Purebred, I’m a news reporter. I don’t have friends anymore.”

“Bad night?” asked Taptap kindly.

“Bad past three years. You know, funnily enough, my friend who died’s last name is also Clark.”

“I hear it used to be quite the popular East-ish Coast last name.”

“In the 20s, maybe,” Polly muttered, taking another drink.

“Well,” shrugged Taps, “I don’t imagine Purebred is that common either.”

Polly smiled, shrugging back. Then the silence returned, looser this time. He truly looked like Shoeshine in his best form. He looked clean and poised. Shoeshine hadn’t looked like that for months. He was wearing a freshly-pressed blue suit and a fedora of the same color. He also had a red tie and white-rimmed sunglasses clipped to his lapel.

“What do you mean East-ish Coast?” Polly asked, taking her last drink.

“I was born in West Virginia. Moved to Manhattan when I was eighteen.”

Polly deeply inhaled, refusing tears again. “My Clark was also born in West Virginia.”

“Small world.”

He certainly didn’t seem like any threat. Maybe that was the tactic. She certainly started to trust him, by any means.

The night went on and they kept talking. Before Polly knew it, she was being kissed. Sooner than that her hands were being held and she was leading Taps to her apartment, of her own accord, nonetheless. More kisses. Clothes coming off. More and more kisses. And Polly  _ loved  _ it.

 

\--

 

After a while of sitting in her bathroom trying to collect herself in a bathrobe, she opened the door and leaned against the frame, tiredly looking at Taptap. He hadn’t looked like he’d moved.

“Polly,” he said, softly, “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, because I thought that was absolutely amazing but I uh,” he sighed, “...I think I’m gay.”

“Yeah, well,” Polly shrugged, also sighing, “so do I.”

“Can we just… forget this ever happened?” asked Taptap quietly after a few minutes of silence.

“You know, Taptap, I’d absolutely love to, but, unfortunately I don’t think either of us will be able to.”

“...what do you mean?”

She sighed again, crossing her arms and clenching her fists around them.

“Condom broke. I’m pregnant.”

Taptap stared at her, mortified. “Oh my god- I’m… I’m so sorry, I didn’t notice- I didn’t….” inhaling, he collected himself, “...are you keeping it?”

Polly didn’t answer for a while. Would she even be able to get rid of it if she tried? She didn’t need any anxiety over getting rid of it if she did, but she also certainly didn’t need the emotional commitment that came with having a child. Would she be able to afford keeping it? Would she be able to afford getting rid of it? Closing her eyes, she sighed.

“...yeah.”

“Will I be allowed to see it?”

“You can be the legal father. Something happens to me you see it.  _ Only  _ if something happens to me. And you’ll certainly be paying the child support.”

“Yeah, I deserve that. Again Polly I’m so sorry. I-I… I didn’t notice it broke if I did I would’ve pulled out faster- I didn’t mean to-”

“Get out of my apartment, Taptap.”


	3. Chapter 3

He looked just like Shoeshine, but without freckles. He had two small tufts of almost-spiked hair on the front of his head and two round on the back, no doubt gotten from Polly. He was sitting in front of the TV, his tail wagging furiously as he screamed and laughed, pitting Littlest Pet Shops and My Little Ponies against eachother. It was as intricate of a story as a four-year-old could manage, and from what Polly picked up, very influenced from the  _ Inspector Gadget  _ episode playing.

His name was Lewis. He loved  _ Inspector Gadget  _ almost as much as his namesake did.

Then there was a knock at the door. Polly quickly stood, opened it, and looked mortified at the person on the other side.

“H-Hi, Polly.” That voice. That same damned voice.

“Hi. What are you doing here?”

“I just-”

“You came to see him after  _ four years?” _

Taptap looked nervous, “It’s been four years? I’d only thought-”

“If you’d come to see him after  _ months,  _ maybe I would’ve let you. But it’s been  _ four years.  _ You can see him if anything happens to me, and  _ only  _ if anything happens to me, do you understand that? You lost your chance years ago.”

“...yes ma’am. Sorry.”

Polly slammed the door, pacing over to Lewis and holding him close. Lewis seemed to have noticed the man but didn’t seem to hear.

“Mama, who was that?”

“That was Underdog, sweetheart.” she lied.

“Why didn’t he stay?”

“Well, he’s a very busy man. He’s a superhero.”

“Mama?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Who’s Underdog?”

“Well, Lewis,” she scooted on her knees through his toys to the dvd player, and popped out  _ Inspector Gadget.  _ “He’s a superhero. He used to save our very own city from terrible monsters. They made a cartoon based off him- would you like to see?”

Lewis unsurprisingly, flailed his arms screaming and nodding. Polly placed in her copy of said Underdog dvd, it was presteen. One of her most precious non-sentient things, of course.

As it started playing, Lewis immediately gasped. His tail was wagging, his arms flailed harder. He stared right up at Polly.

“That’s  _ you!!” _

Polly nodded, smiling, sitting back next to him. Only a few minutes later he was doing the same motion again.

“He looks just like  _ me!!”  _ He looked up at Polly, “He looks  _ just like  _ me!”

“Yeah,” Polly smiled, “he sure does.”

 

\--

 

Lewis was then obsessed with Underdog. He was fourteen now, and he was still obsessed with Underdog. He had such an interest, in fact, that he had ironed a big, white U on his least favorite red shirt as best he could. The shirt when from least favorite to most favorite very quickly. On top he wore a pale yellow hoodie akin to the one Shoeshine wore. Most usually he wore the two in combination in case he ever had to make an Underdog transformation- that and Polly didn’t let him wear jackets with nothing under.

One day, a thought had occurred to him, while in the car driving to school.

“Mom?” he muttered.

“Yeah?”

“Whatever happened to Underdog?” she seemed to wince at the question. Lewis went on, “You said it was based of a real person and you said he showed up at our house once. What’s he doing now?”

“Well, uh,” Polly cleared her throat, “Wh-where do you think he is?”

“I don’t know. Some space adventure? Helping problems in other countries? Do you know?”

“...I don’t want to ruin the magic for you.” she said, softly.

“What… what happened to him?”

“He’s dead.” she said softly, after several minutes of silence. Then it was silent again.

“I don’t-I don’t believe you,” Lewis said eventually, “Underdog  _ can’t  _ die.”

“Lewis, that cartoon is only  _ based  _ in real-life. Real Underdog was just as mortal as anyone else. He just couldn’t die of blunt force.”

Lewis looked torn. “I-I don’t believe you!”

“Lewis… you have a free period don’t you? To catch up on homework? If you don’t have any, feel free to look it up for yourself. Manhattan, Underdog’s Death, 2001.”

Lewis was silent for the rest of the ride. He was silent for the rest of the school day, even his best friend could seldom get him to talk.

When his free period came, he did just that. Hundreds of articles, one from TTV themselves. Some had pictures. One had a transcript of his suicide note. Lewis could hardly believe how miserable Underdog seemed. Couldn’t believe how many medicines he had, or how long he’d been like this, or how his name was also Lewis.

Then he came across one article. “Underdog Lookalike Found Around In Huntsville, West Virginia.”

There were pictures. One was a shaky close-up that he was blocking with his hand. It looked  _ enough _ like Underdog. The other was from a store security camera. That  _ was  _ Underdog. He looked  _ awful _ , but it  _ was _ Underdog. It said that Underdog was supposedly born there, too.

At that moment, Lewis crafted a plan. The school year ended in a few weeks, when it did, he needed to convince his mother to take him to West Virginia and see if it really was.

 

\--

 

“No, no, no, we are not going to West Virginia to see someone who looks like Underdog. Underdog’s dead, Lewis.”

“Why not, it’s about to be summer!”

“I have a job, Lewis, I don’t have any days to have a trip to West Virginia. And Huntsville’s a ghost town Lewis.”

“It said  _ around  _ Huntsville!”

“We aren’t going to West Virginia, Lewis.”

“...then I’ll go by myself.”

Polly was silent for a minute.

“Lewis N Purebred you are  _ not  _ going to West Virginia by yourself.” she said, loudly, angrily.

“...fine.” he lied.


	4. Chapter 4

If Lewis was correct, a trip from Manhattan to Huntsville (or Ravenswood, Jackson County, as he found was the more accurate spot) would take eight hours. Of course, that if he could find a bus to go non-stop with no pit stops. He rounded to ten. What would he need- snacks? Clothes? Hm.

Underdog looked awful from the pictures, food and water were probably good ideas. ...should he bring money? Surely Underdog had…  _ some,  _ right?

The end of the school year approached, Lewis had hoped if he did well on his finals Polly would oblige to his plan. She didn’t, of course, so on the final day Lewis brought a backpack full of clothes and snacks and some crumpled dollars. As soon as the final bell rang he headed to the closest bus stop and got as close to New Jersey as he could. From there he’d have to figure out a whole new way of travel.

 

\--

 

On set, Polly was extremely worried. Lewis always texted her when he got out of school to tell her he was home.  _ Always. _ Her boss kept trying to tell her that his phone might just be dead- schools let the kids go wild after finals, he was probably on it all day. Deep down Polly hoped he was right, but she knew Lewis was smarter than that- he’d leave at least a few percent in case he ever had to tell her he was in danger.

...right?

 

\--

 

By the time Lewis got off at Glendon, he decided he should grab some sort of weapon. Department stores sold knives, right? Would he need an i.d. for that? Ultimately he decided on scissors, more use, he thought. Walking along to another bus stop the thought of a subway or taxi crossed his mind. Through Pennsylvania to Maryland seemed to be freeway and he wasn’t sure if a bus would be able to take him there. Of course, if a bus couldn’t then neither could a subway or taxi. He dreaded the thought of having to walk that distance and decided he would take his chances.

An hour and a half later he was in Harrisburg. In another he was in Hagerstown. Two hours until Morgantown. Four until Ravenswood. That was almost halfway, huh? And it was only twenty to seven. Wonderful.

On his way to Hancock, a thought occurred to him. In 2001, he wasn’t alive. He was born in 2004. The guy at their door wasn’t Underdog. His mother lied to him. Maybe Underdog was dead…. but what if she was lying about that too? Was three hours too late to turn back? It’d be ten when he got there… and who knows what kind of search she’d be on by then. Who knows what kind of search she’d be on now… holy shit he never told her he was doing this. He never told her he was out.

..was three hours too late? Better late than never right…? He didn’t think Polly believed in that. At three hours Polly might think someone bad had just gotten him and ahold of her phone to tell her it was alright.

He felt awful until he got to Morgantown. Then he composed another plan. If Underdog was dead, he got captured by someone and could only escape and get home now. He had yet figured out what to do if Underdog  _ was  _ there. At that point he felt it far more likely Underdog  _ was  _ dead but the anxiety of never knowing would kill him. 

_ Sorry mom _ , he thought, slumping into his seat, feeling his face heat, crying,  _ I love you. _

 

\--

 

Polly’s boss had let her leave early. As if that would help her mental state. Sitting at home, seven o’clock, her son gone and no reason as to why. She felt sick, laying on the couch, crying,  _ Get Smart _ as attempted distraction, without her son anywhere to be found. On the drive home she went by the police department and told them about said missing son. Truly she didn’t believe they could- or more likely, would- do anything. Manhattan was too big. 

Mindlessly she grabbed her phone and looked up the number for Typanni’s Jewelry. And even more mindlessly called it.

“Typanni’s Jewelry.” said that damned voice.

“...is this Taptap Clark?”

“... _ Polly?” _ he said before going silent for a few moments, “Let me get you on my actual phone… wh-what’s your number?”

Polly told him quietly, and in a few minutes he called back.

“So… what’s up?” he said, quietly.

“Our son’s gone. I’m scared. I-I don’t know what to do.”

Taptap was silent. He then frantically asked, “What do you mean he’s gone?”

“I mean he’s  _ gone,  _ Taps- he-he…” she finally let herself break down, “He didn’t tell me when he got to the apartment and he’s not here now and I  _ know  _ he’s smarter than just letting his phone die.”

Taps sighed, “I-I get off at seven-thirty, you want me to come over we can… figure something out? My husband knows a few people he’s… real into solving unsolved things. Think he’d help?”

She sniffed, wiping her eyes, “Yeah…”

“See you in a bit, Polly,” with that he hung up. She laid the phone on her stomach, turning over and crying into the side of the couch.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fight/wound tw

From Clarksburg to Parkersburg is when the real anxiety set in. For several reasons, really, this might be the last bus able to take him there, and he did not want to walk the ten hours to get to Ravenswood- he wasn’t fit enough. It would be early morning when he got there. Thirty-seven minutes by car. Maybe he could find a bike to steal?

He strolled around Parkersburg, figuring out what to do. On 4th Street, a blue cadillac rolled up to him. A rottweiler was driving.

“Where you headed, kid?”

Lewis jumped. Should he answer, should he run? He had a weapon and he could always jump out if he tried to do anything, right?

“...Ravenswood.” he said, quietly.

“I was just heading to Ravenswood. You like a lift?”

He slowly shoved his hand in his hoodie’s pocket and held his scissors, nodding.

In forty minutes, he was in Ravenswood. The rottweiler headed toward a strip mall, parking in front of a building labelled  _ Foodland. _

“Here you are, kid.”

“Th-thank you, sir.” Lewis nodded, not looking at him, getting out of the car as soon as the could. He walked backwards around the car so he wouldn’t have to see him. He let go of his breath too soon.

He was suddenly grabbed by the driver and shoved down. His shoulder hit the tail fin, his body then hit the concrete, screaming. He feebly reached into his pocket, grabbing them and stabbing them into the closest part he could reach. 

The rottweiler shot up, staring at his stomach. “Why you little-!” he looked up before finishing and looked terrified. Quickly, he stood and ran, his car starting and driving way. Lewis coughed as exhaust went in his face. He looked up to thank whoever scared him, and heard himself gasp.

“You alright, kid?” he said, voice just like the cartoon.

“Yo-you’re Underdog!” said Lewis, loudly, unable to contain his excitement.

“I haven’t… heard that name in years.”

He looked better in person. His muzzle was dark and gray, his whiskers frayed, his ears frayed and tangled, he had bags under his eyes and the veins in his eyes you could see faintly. The big U on his shirt was peeling off, and the collar was frayed. His cardigan was the cleanest part of him.

Underdog squatted town, helping him up. “So are you alright, kid? I saw you stab that guy- smart move.” 

“Th-thank you.” 

“So… who are you, kid? I haven’t seen you around.”

“I’m Lewis and-and! I’m so excited to meet you!”

“I’m quite honestly surprised you know who I am- are you from around here, Lewis?”

“No I-I heard you lived out here and wanted to meet you! I love your cartoons!”

“Right the cartoons…” he cleared his throat, “It’s getting late, and you need somewhere to stay, right?”

Lewis nodded, smiling.

“Well… I guess you don’t have the money for an apartment, and neither do I so…” he breathed deeply, and sighed, “You can stay with me, I guess. That guy’s in the management of the apartments anyway, don’t trust you to be alone…” he groaned, “Be talking to them in the morning.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t fight him- you’re Underdog!”

“You had it handled. Not like I have much muscle mass anymore anyway. C’mon.”

He led Lewis to his car, old and beat up. Pastel yellow, chipped horribly. Lewis was a bit surprised.  _ Not like I have much muscle mass anymore anyway?  _ What did that mean? He was a  _ superhero.  _

Underdog drove past a police station, then turned onto a road full of houses. Lewis was staring out the window trying to figure out which one was Underdog’s. Then Underdog turned on a road with bigger houses, then turned past one of those into the forest. Lewis heard a sound come out of him. He parked next to a partially-moss-covered cabin a bit away from a green pond.

“So I wasn't expecting to have a uh,  _ guest  _ tonight so my house looks awful. And I also don't have an extra bed so you can take mine and I'll make something out of blankets. I know I have a sheet somewhere,” said Underdog, forcefully opening his door and walking inside

Lewis nodded but didn't hear. It was a living room, maybe? He stepped in. There was a dusty desk on one side of the room and on the other what Lewis could only guess was a kitchen. It seemed to have faint painting of mint green and big, white diamonds, cabinets as light white too. No table to be found. A fridge, a microwave and a sink where all next to eachother, the only tabletop was right under the microwave- if it weren't covered in dishes he couldn't tell were clean or not. The only light bulb he could see was there.

There was a couch, torn up, but a couch. It sat half on top of a dark shaggy carpet, and faced toward a window. There was an old possible radio on the furthest cushion.

“You wanna set down your bag, take off your shoes anywhere?” asked Underdog, who had already removed both shoes and vest.

Lewis nodded, looking down and taking off his shoes. Almost immediately he slid on the floor. He caught himself shaking. He then felt himself crying. He wanted to think it was because he did something stupid in front of his idol but deep down he knew it was everything that led up to now  _ and  _ doing something stupid in front of his idol.

“I'm-I’m sorry-” he started, but Underdog cut him off, holding him close, kicking his shoes against the door. He then quietly led him into a smaller room from the living room-kitchen, with a bed in relatively good shape, and a drawer next to it. The only light source seemed to be the one from the previous room.

“I believe I have a sheet somewhere- set down your bag.” Lewis did, sniffling. Soon enough Underdog found a sheet, also in fine condition and a nice soft blue, and attempted to put it on the bed. He sighed, stepping back.

“I never was good at that. It'll work though, yeah? Well, Lewis, I'm gonna let you- oh wait.” He skidded over to the drawer and picked out three different pill bottles. Holding them in his arms, he went on, “I'm gonna let you rest in here, and I'm gonna leave the door open because it gets way too dark in here without it. Close it if you want, I don't care, I'll be in here if you need anything. Night, kid.”

“Night,” said Lewis, quietly. He slowly made his way over to the bed, pulled up his hood, covered himself in the fluffy blanket there and balled up.

This was it, he made it! Why was he so sad?


	6. Chapter 6

He was awake again what felt like no less than five minutes later. He quietly stood up and slid into the doorway. Underdog was standing in the kitchen, drinking from a bottle.

“Oh, hey Lewis- bad dream?”

Lewis sniffed, unsure. He went over and buried his face in Underdog’s chest. He flinched, prying him off.

“Did you sleep?” 

Lewis shrugged. 

“...do you want to?” 

Lewis nodded. 

“Well uh…” Underdog turned to the counter, “I have some melatonin… you shouldn’t  _ really  _ have any but…” he sighed, “I don’t think anything bad can happen if you just have one. Can you swallow pills?”

Lewis shook his head, wiping his nose with a sleeve.

Underdog hummed, opening a cabinet and grabbing a shot glass, filing it halfway with water, Lewis watched him, confused. Underdog opened a different bottle and placed a pill in the water. He then grabbed a butter knife and stirred it up a bit.

“This is something my mom used to do for me,” he said as he turned back to Lewis. “So while we wait… how do you _ know  _ about me?”

“My mom had one of your dvds… she had it on all the time… and I got obsessed. Riff Raff’s another favorite but I’m...scared of him.”

“Riff is a pretty cool guy, huh. You know, his real name’s Riff Raft.” he emphasized the t, “Changed it for the cartoon. For a pun,” he shrugged, “Sounds the same to me, though.”

“He’s real too?”

Underdog nodded, “They’re all real. Well,” he scoffed, “Battyman isn't real. Or the Bubbleheads.” he laughed a bit, “Most of the otherworldly villains in that show weren’t real, not that I can remember.”

Lewis hummed. He could believe that. “Who were they? Really? Riff and Simon and Cad?”

Underdog hummed too. “Well… Simon was a power-hungry bloodlusting evil scientist and Riff and Cad were people who wanted to pay of their debts before they died and got tied up in the wrong line of work.” he turned and stirred the shot glass, “Let’s talk about this more in the morning, yeah? You need sleep.” he handed Lewis the glass, which Lewis nervously took, he handed it back to Underdog, trying to swallow. Underdog refilled it and handed it back. “They taste gross, I know.”

Lewis eagerly took it, drinking it slower. “Why do you have these?” he asked, quietly, putting his glass on the counter.

“I’m sad and I can’t sleep at night,” he replied. “Night, Lewis.”

“What do you- night…” he was too tired to finish that train of thought, and made his way back to the bed, falling asleep instantly.

\--

“Polly I’d… I’d introduce you to my husband, but I believe you already know him.”

“You’re right.”

Riff Raft. He looked just the same. He’d traded in his pinstripe suit for a red shirt, leather jacket and jeans. Taptap looked like she remembered him, traded his suit for a dark blue sweater, not unlike Polly’s. Polly could believe it, a crime boss and a diamond chisler? What a perfect combination for jewel theft.

“Nice to meet you again… Polly,” said Riff, nervously “I hear we have a child.”

“Guess so.” Polly didn’t want to admit to Riff having any right to her son.

Riff was silent for a bit, seemingly taking in the place.

“I-I know you’re nervous, Polly,” said Taps, stepping closer to her, “Riff doesn’t… doesn’t do that anymore, I swear,” his voice softened, “I wouldn’t… marry him if he was.”

Riff smiled from behind him.

“Whatever,” muttered Polly, “Just help me find my son.”

\--

_ “Put on your Sunday clothes there’s lots of world out there….” _

Lewis groaned a bit, opening his eyes. The room didn’t seem any brighter from last night. Looking around, he saw a few specks of dust through the doorway. 

_ “Get out the brilliantine and dime cigars!” _

What the heck was  _ brilliantine? _ Ugh.

_ “We’re gonna find adventure in the evening air!” _

He groggily stood up and walked into the living room. Underdog was sitting on the couch with the radio on his chest, arms behind his head, eyes closed.

_ “Girls in white in a perfume night where the lights are bright as the stars!” _

What even  _ was  _ this song. Lewis walked up and tried to locate a power button. Eventually he picked it up to look closer.

“Hey, what the ff-” Underdog sprung up, making Lewis jump. “Give me that.” he said angrily, tearing the radio from Lewis’ hands and turning it off. 

Lewis could hardly move. Who… who  _ was  _ this?

Underdog looked up regretfully at him. “I’m- I’m sorry Lewis I just…” he sighed, trailing off, staring at the radio.

“You just  _ what!”  _ Lewis squeaked, trying to stop himself from crying again.

He looked up, voice softening, “...this is one of the last things I have left of my dad, I’m… really overprotective of it. I’m sorry.”

Lewis sniffled. He couldn’t really blame him… if he had something that important to him just taken away he’d be angry too. Maybe he should’ve brought something to remind him of his own parent.

Underdog quietly placed it next to him, and patted the cushion to invite Lewis to sit. Lewis eagerly took it, leaning onto Underdog. He winced as his shoulder made contact.

“You alright, kid?”

Lewis nodded, “Must be that tailfin I hit last night.”

Underdog hummed, wrapping an arm around him to hold him closer, obviously recalling that.

“...do you have parents, Lewis?”

“...yeah?”

“Do they know you’re here?”

Lewis was silent.

_ “Why  _ are you here?” he went on, voice shaking.

“I just… wanted to meet you. I really like your cartoons and… I kept hearing that someone who looked like you lived here and… you know.”

“Are you… alright? Like… what’s up? Are your parents okay?” he seemed nervous, “...I’m not a stranger to kids of your age saying that I’ve… helped them through awful, awful things.”

“No!” he started getting defensive, “my mom’s great I’m just a stupid kid who’s obsessed with you and does stupid things because of it!”

Underdog held him close. He sighed, “Whatever you say, kid.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> homophobia/violence/suicide tw

Taps looked terribly nervous. It was because he brought Riff and didn’t know about the extent of his and Polly’s past. The room was silent.

“...well,” Taps eventually said, “I’m gonna leave for a bit… please,  _ please _ try to work this out.”

As he turned to leave he squeezed his husband’s hand, who in turn kissed his cheek. They were silent until he left.

“So,” Riff muttered, “...nice to meet you again.”

“I guess,” she answered, “We couldn’t have met again at a lower point in my life,” she chuckled half-heartedly.

“Yeah,” he said, softly, before going silent again. “...Taps was really torn up when he came home. Lewis… means alot to him. I just… hope you know that.”

“You think so, huh? Well… this isn’t what he wanted us to talk about,” a wave of nervousness seemed to spread over Riff’s face as Polly spoke, “I want to know what the  _ fuck  _ is wrong with you.”

He sighed, heavily, “...god, where do I even start?” he chuckled softly to try and break the tension, but it ended in more of a whimper.

Polly didn’t say anything, just stared, recounting everything he’d ever done, everything to her, everything to  _ Underdog _ .

“...so uh,” he tried starting, “I just… I don’t know, I-I wanted to eat and I wanted to have somewhere to live where I wouldn’t be harassed or assaulted everyday. And Underdog… Underdog… I mean, I love him but… at that point I couldn’t find a way to survive and obey the law and… you were the only way to distract him for long enough I could. And I’m so  _ so  _ sorry I ever did all that.”

Polly felt a pang of sympathy for him.

“Wait, what do you mean?”

“Well uh,” Riff smiled, still anxious, “1996 and I was openly gay, that was the first reason. And I… couldn’t hold a job because of that. You know, the actual employers can’t discriminate but the employees can. And I got called all kinds of slurs and got beat up sometimes and… the employers couldn’t say anything but they agreed with them and I couldn’t stay at any job. And a place to live… ugh a place to live.”

Polly felt her face heat up, starting to forgive him for everything. That sounded awful, how could she not?

“Before turning to crime I lived in a shelter, and of course I got assaulted and harassed there too and it was much more frequent, and the people in charge did it too so I… couldn’t stay there. So I gathered a gang with about the same story and robbed some banks and bought an apartment. And then I… met Taps in ‘03 and made a one-eighty and… I punch people if they try to do anything to me,” he laughed.

“He is… pretty neat, huh?” Polly felt herself smile despite herself, “So, how’d you two meet, how’d he help you?”

He smiled, happily, “Well, I was trying to rob the Typanni’s he worked at and made eye contact and… well he’s hot,” which made them both laugh, before Riff went on, “...so I went back a few months later after the gang fell apart and I was unable to survive and apologized profusely and asked him out and… rest is history, y’know?”

Polly smiled, softly. 

“And I mean… tons and tons of therapy, of course.”

They both laughed.

“What about you and Taps, how did Lewis happen?” Riff went on.

She felt her heart drop to her stomach.  _ That. _

Riff’s expression dropped as soon as he saw hers. “...you don’t have to say-”

“It’s only fair,” she said, quietly. “...so, it was a bit after Underdog… did that… and I was torn up over it, still, and he just… was so nice to me and he… he looks  _ so much  _ like him. Not that… I never felt anything for him, of course but… things happen sometimes and I was upset and he said he was gay and it… wasn’t a relationship that ever could’ve worked out.” she felt tears starting to roll down her cheeks.

Riff looked surprised, stepping closer and shushing her, opening his arms. Polly gladly accepting.

“I just want my son back…” she whimpered.

“I know,” said Riff, softly, “We’ll find him. I promise.”

\--

“So, what’s in the bag?”

“You know,” muttered Lewis, still curled up comfortably in Underdog’s arm, “Snacks. Clothes. I used to have money but I blew it all on bus rides.”

“...how long do you plan to stay here?”

“Long as it takes for you to be convinced to come back. You’re my only way of transport.” he smiled, cheekily.

“Clever. Where am I returning to?”

“Manhattan.”

“Manhattan…” he repeated softly, nervously. He looked horrified. He murmured something Lewis couldn’t hear. “I can’t go back to Manhattan…”

“...because you faked your death?” asked Lewis, softly.

“You know about that?” he asked, nervously.

“Yeah it was only the most consistent thing in all articles about you! And you’re  _ here  _ so you faked it!”

Underdog was silent.

“Well if you put it so bluntly…”

Lewis jumped back, waving his arms in front of him, “No-no I didn’t mean it like-!”

“Lewis,” he said softly, choking up slightly, “I didn't fake my death. I failed dying.”

Lewis felt his heart sink.

“Guess I had my powers too intact then.” he sighed, then laughed, a tear falling down his face, “Lost em enough to knock me out for ten hours.”

Lewis felt awful. What did he say to console him? Oh it's alright, suicide’s bad? Would that set him off more?

So he didn't say anything, just snuggled up next to him as Underdog cried more, cursing at himself.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eating disorder tw

“Well,” said Underdog after a bit, suppressing sniffles, standing “Neither of us have eaten in twenty-four hours, and we can’t survive on just what you brought, let’s go get something.”

Lewis was a bit startled by his sudden change in attitude, but nodded. “Where?”

“The strip,” he said, dusting himself off, “There’s a Pizza Hut there. We aren’t going there.”

“I’m alright with that, Pizza Hut just has the worst pizza.”

“You really are from Manhattan,” he muttered, smiling at him, “I agree, but that’s not why we aren’t going there. You see Lewis,” he went on, offering a hand to help Lewis up, “I can’t keep a job, I am not in the mental nor physical state to. So I don’t have money.”

Realization spread over Lewis face.

“But-but you’re Underdog!” he said, loudly, “You can’t steal you-! You-you!”

“Lewis…” he said softly, holding on to his shoulders as he quietly panicked, “I haven’t been  _ Underdog  _ for fourteen years. And you know, Lewis? I’ll never truly be  _ that  _ Underdog again. I don’t have powers anymore. I have horrible mental problems that I’ve had for a long, long time, and they’ve gotten worse!” he laughed, but it wasn’t happy in the slightest, “I can’t survive and obey the law.”

Lewis was distraught and he looked the part. He couldn’t tell what he was more distraught about- that  _ Underdog  _ was like this, or that Underdog was like  _ this. _

“...Lewis I’m not going to leave you in this cabin alone, I’m sorry, and food is important, I’m  _ not  _ starving myself again.”

“...what?!” said Lewis, startled. What the  _ hell  _ did that mean? “Under-”

He sighed, “I’ll tell you everything once we get back, we need to get food.”

Lewis agreed, reluctantly. Now he was nervous. What did he mean again- if he was so intent on getting food why would he ever starve himself? Not unless- oh no. An eating disorder paired with everything else already up with him… that sounded awful.

After a while of silent driving, Underdog spoke.

“So what foods do you like, Lewis?”

“..garlic bread, apples and cheese. Not all three at the same time.” he said, softly, still a bit shaken.

“...what are you eating together?”

“...cheese and apples…” he whimpered, looking at him.

“Oo!” he suddenly became excited, “What kinds of each?”

Lewis felt his shoulders relax, unaware until then they were even tensed. “Just… regular red ones and um… either mozzarella or cheddar but like, not those pre-cut ones.”

Underdog chuckled, “Yeah, those are absolutely disgusting. I used to eat those straight out of the packaging,” he went into full laughter. Lewis laughed quietly.

“Did you used to eat cheese and apples too?”

“Yeah! Well-” he paused, all past happiness draining out of him, “My brother and dad did, I just stole a bite every once in a while. If my mom ever found out I did…” he laughed a bit, but it wasn’t happy.

“Was your mom not… good?” his voice went even quieter. 

“She was fine…” he shrugged, “She was sad which was probably mostly my fault but… what can you do? I'll… I'll finish this story later, we need food.” His eyes seemed to drop for a moment, he then took a deep breath and got out of the car, Lewis quickly followed.

“So Lewis, you're on look-out. You stay close to me. You notice someone tap me. You stay calm and natural as possible- you're a teenage boy, right? Pretend like you hate being there and are looking around like you have nothing else to do, alright?”

Lewis stared blankly at him for a minute, processing the instructions, before nodding, but Underdog didn't move.

“You've got pockets. You try and stuff whatever food items you can in those, alright? Get soft stuff, it's less obvious.”

He stared blankly and nodded again after a few moments.

Underdog sighed nervously, “Alright, here we go.”

They stepped in, no one was at the counter. Lewis felt a weight lift off his back. Underdog didn’t seem so confident. He led Lewis into the snack aisle, whispering to him.

“Grab something small.”

He then went on to the tiny freezers to make his own thefts. Lewis starred at the shelves. Nothing was small and soft. He stared a bit, just grabbing. Small pretzel bag. Tiny Nutella. Sack of M&Ms. Underdog turned back, nodding for Lewis to come closer. He did, Underdog grabbing his arm, leading him around into a middle-aisle, pretending to look at a journal. Someone was at the counter, Lewis could see them. He looked back away, hoping he didn’t look too suspicious.

Underdog set the journal back down, walking down the aisle, pretending to get distracted by a pencil bag. It was kind of cool, Lewis admitted to himself, but he fakely sighed, pretending to hate being here. He kinda did.

Underdog went on, tapping Lewis’ arm and making his way toward the exit, humming to himself. The cashier didn't seem to notice.

Back in the car, Underdog let out a breath Lewis didn't know he was holding.

“...that went much better than I thought it would.”

“Can I take this food out of my clothes now?”

“Oh, sure. I do put food in your seat though, so you're holding this.” He pulled a few frozen foods from under his shirt, Lewis couldn't make out what they were. Lewis just nodded after everything was handed to him.

“...now you have to tell me about your parents and about you starving yourself.”

Underdog stopped mid-key turn.

“...I guess I sure do, don't I?” but then he was silent.

Lewis sighed as he started driving, “Underdog, come on, you just forced me to shoplift it's the least you could do!”

“The least I could do was even get you food and shelter in the first place,” he snapped defensively. He then sighed, staring at the road pained, “It’s like my radio. I don't want anyone to touch it because they'll either end up breaking it more or hating it, and those absolute  _ piece of shit memories  _ don't need either of those!”

Lewis was silent for a moment.

“...things need to be touched so they can be fixed.” He said, quietly. Underdog didn't say anything for a long time.

“Not everything can be fixed, Lewis,” he said, just as softly.

“Maybe not,” Lewis conceded, “But they can get into better shape.” 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eating disorder, suicide, death tw
> 
> also lots of talking

Back at the cabin, Underdog was heating up two Pizza Kid Cuisines. Lewis emptied his pockets on the counter. Underdog looked down at the noise and immediately grabbed the Nutella.

“Oh, Lewis, this is great!”

Lewis looked at him, quizzically. Neither of them brought anything that could be dipped in Nutella.

“I used to eat this by the cupful.” He went on, opening it.

“...with what?”

“A spoon, I’m a heretic, Lewis.”

Lewis laughed. After he stopped it was silent as they waited for their food to heat up. In the meantime, Lewis dug through his bag, bringing the snacks in. It was mainly granola. Underdog didn’t seem to interested, but he nodded vaguely in Lewis’ direction as he did. Soon enough their was food was done, and they ate in silence on the couch. After they finished, Lewis brought up their car conversation again.

“So… um… did you used to eat Kid Cuisines alot, as a kid?”

He tried, anyway.

He snickered a bit, “I was in my twenties when these came out. They came out in the 90s.” He added on when Lewis just quietly stared at him.

Lewis hummed, “...so um… what was that about your family again?”

He immediately prickled, then calmed. “I guess I did promise you, huh?” He grabbed Lewis’ tray, stacked it on his own and got up and set them in the kitchen. He sighed as he slumped back down. 

“So… 1973, right? I was born, and my moms name was Molly and my dad was named… well,” he motioned to Lewis, “ _ Lewis,  _ if you can believe it. I had a brother, too, his name was William but he’s…. He’s not important.”

He cleared his throat.

“Back them my name was Meriwether. My family called me Merry. My dad was… a coal miner and my mom was a poet, she wound up in newspapers alot. ‘87 was… a busy, busy year. My brother and I were just about to enter highschool, so your age, and um… I came out to my parents as a boy who never planned to have kids or get married and that was… not a thing you could do, in the 80s.”

“...you mean you weren’t already?” Lewis asked softly, nervous.

“Not physically. And not socially, either. Your Underdog’s a transgender asexual- bet the articles you saw never said that, huh?”

Lewis shook his head, shamefully.

“Yeah, not really a known thing. Some Hollywood execs that tried to buy the rights to my entire life told me that if I ever made either of those things open it’d ruin my image and I was… twenty-one when they did and that absolutely crushed me ever being open to really anyone. But anyway,” he shook his head, eyes closing, “‘87, at our little cabin, my parents accepted it but… were scared to be public about it, because I was 14 and some of my other family members didn’t have the best reputations and my parents didn’t want the town to think they or one of their siblings fucked me up somehow. And I… changed my name to Lewis, after my dad, and they started calling me Junior. A week later my brother told them that he did indeed plan on marrying, just not a woman. Which went over just about the same. A week later someone escaped from a prison not too far from here.

“Being in coal mines most of his life messed up my dad. He was hard of hearing and sight when he was in his mid-forties. But he had a degree in law and was related to a bunch of bloodhounds, distantly, so he was sent on the case to catch them. And succeeded! And that continued happening for the next four years.”

“People stopped breaking out of the prison?” Lewis asked.

Underdog’s peaceful expression dropped immediately, “I guess. But that’s not why my dad stopped. So the guy who escaped was an unlicensed dentist, and my dad had a personal vendetta against him. So they set him on the case, to which he followed this dentist into the woods. And… this is West Virginia in the middle of a forest, there were a few unprotected train tracks.” His voice softened, starting to break, “And… It was dark and storming and my dad couldn't see very well to begin with and… his car broke down over one of the tracks. And… and he didn't hear the train whistle because he couldn't hear very well either and-” he inhaled deeply to try to stop himself sobbing, “-he only noticed when he saw the light coming into his car but by then it was too late… he got hit.”

Underdog stopped talking for a bit after that, sobbing as quietly as he could, not even turned toward Lewis anymore. His voice was just as broken when he started again.

“Luckily the train had cowcatchers so he didn't get dragged under and luckily the driver was breaking from the moment he noticed him and he called a hospital as soon as it was fully stopped but… After he got to the hospital and we got there it was too late and… he died. Which absolutely destroyed all of us, but the police wouldn't get off our backs about that dentist, because clearly if our dad had such a good nose me or my brother had to but,” he sniffled, “It was a learned trait and we all knew it. But the cops didn't believe us.

“A few months later my brother decided to move to New York. He wanted to be a jeweler and there's no jewlery places around here, not then. That just tore us up even more. After that my mom told me it was my job to go catch this dentist. So I did, because she was the only person I had left and I thought if I did it would make her just a bit happier, she needed it.

“It was… a very stormy night, again. I got led into one of my dad’s coal mines and got trapped in there with a ton of laughing gas. So I was in the cave, laughing because of the gas and crying hysterically because I wasn't ready to  _ die  _ and my mother  _ needed  _ me so I  _ couldn't.  _ Then in some… random act of miracle magic the cave got struck by lighting, turned all the coal around into diamond and gave me those superpowers. I only realized anything had happened because after then when I tried to break out it  _ worked _

“I felt too guilty having something my dad didn't so I didn't use them while capturing the dentist and giving him to the cops. I just… figured out what I could do for a few months alone before finally bringing it up to my mom. She didn't understand but at that point didn't care enough to disagree,” just as his voice started getting stronger it broke again, “And that was… the last conversation I ever had with her. She was sad, she was terribly sad. She got sadder after my brother and I were born and her husband dying and her son leaving were the final straws so… that night she took her own life.”

He sobbed quietly again, shorter this time, as if he used all his sobs on his dad's death.

“She was a poet. Instead of a suicide note she wrote one last one… Lies are like doors, and quickly we learn, when doors lock behind us, we can never return… So I buried her next to her husband, and swore on their graves I'd always use these powers to stop criminals and try and make people happy. Then I moved to New York in hopes I would find my brother.”

Lewis and Underdog were silent for a very long time. Then Lewis worked up the courage to ask something else.

“...did you?”

“...no, I didn't. But I wish all the best for him… I hope he found the perfect job… I hope he married the man of his dreams…”

“...then how did you wind up back here?”

Underdog sighed. “I wanna say I was in New York for ten years. And the first half was great! I got the medicine and surgery I needed to transition, I met my best friend, I could finally have a place to live that wasn't infested with termites half the year! After the first three years Gamma Productions and I signed a contract where they could use my name and reimagine things I've done and make up things I've done for that cartoon you love so much! And I met so many great people they were also making cartoons about and everything was fantastic!”

He sighed, sadly, “Then some Hollywood execs wanted to make a movie about me… no they wanted to make a movie about  _ Underdog.  _ And they wanted to reinvent my backstory so that I was just some lab product Simon Barsinsiter made and they completely refused to acknowledge that it was nothing like that, they refused to acknowledge that I am not cis they refused to acknowledge me and Polly’s relationship was anything but romantic! Which hurt. And I started getting really sad again. So I relapsed and started cutting myself, and starving myself, but New York City needed me so I couldn't  _ die. _

“Polly took me to a psychiatrist as Shoeshine where I got diagnosed for depression, general anxiety and PTSD. Which means I just got more drugs. One was antidepressants and one was for when I had panic attacks, my regular doctor even suggested I try testosterone tablets because he didn't trust me with needles anymore. And… I got so tired of myself I bought a six-pack of beer, wrote up a suicide note, got absolutely wasted and took as many of my drugs as a I could. But I didn't die, because I still had powers. So I jumped out the window I flew back here and hoped I could change again but… I've only gotten worse, and I don't have anything or anyone to help me anymore.”

Lewis gently grabbed his arm, “You’ve got me.”

“You're going to leave the second you get what you want out of me. You're going to get me to drive you to Manhattan and then you're going to send me to a homeless shelter where I'll live out the rest of my days even worse because I thought trusting one kid was a good idea.”

Lewis jumped a bit at his tone, backing off, silent for a long time.

“I was going to invite you to live with us, my mom says she used to know you.”

“...well you thought you used to know me too, didn't you Lewis? Why would she know anything more than that  _ goddamned  _ cartoon of me.” 


	10. Chapter 10

After that Underdog was on dead air. Lewis was too scared to talk to him, so for the rest of the day the only sounds of the cabin were the strange array of 60s to 90s songs that played on his radio.

After  _ The Lady Loves Me  _ Lewis decided the day was long enough already, and peacefully resigned to Underdog’s room. He didn’t seem to notice. Lewis could hardly process all that he’d said. It was  _ so much.  _ It was  _ so heavy.  _ His mind almost crossed the thought of  _ how does he live like this  _ before he remembered he didn’t. He tried to die. Awful. Awful.

He flipped onto his stomach. Did Polly know all that about him? Surely, right? He fell asleep sooner than he would’ve liked.

Next thing he knew he was being shaken awake by none other than the very excited face of Underdog. Lewis groaned, lifting himself up on his arms, only one eye open to look at him. Underdog just nodded his head toward the door.

After flopping back down dramatically and rolling up, Lewis stood, rubbing his eyes. Underdog grabbed his arm, quickly leading him outside. It was gray. Underdog quickly hopped onto his car’s hood, to the roof of the car, to the roof of the cabin, then climbed to the very top and stared up. Lewis sighed. It was too early for this nonsense.

For a bit he just stared up at Underdog waiting for him to tell him what he was thinking. He never did. Groaning a bit, Lewis nervously made his way up to the roof. The car was parked sideways against it, so it wasn't hard, but the thought of an unprotected drop several feet above hard, very solid ground was scary. Of course Underdog wasn't scared. He used to fly.

Lewis got the awful thought of if he pushed Underdog off, would something break? How much had losing his powers destroyed his body, exactly?

Sitting on the first piece of roof he got to, it shook his head at that thought. The current thought had to be what was Underdog doing, not that. He crawled up closer, and took a spot next to him, trying to look at the exact spot Underdog was.

They were silent for a long time. Lewis almost convinced himself to look at Underdog, but he couldn't. Not after yesterday.

Suddenly, just when Lewis was starting to fall back asleep on the roof, the sky started to become pink. Then yellow. Then orange. Then red. The gray still taking up most of the sky turned into a nice, soft, blue. Soon after that the great white ball of the sun started to perk up over the trees. A bird started singing. The clouds were becoming a nice black and pastel orange. Lewis started to feel more at peace there than he had before.

He looked up to see Underdog staring at him through the corner of his eye, smiling. His foot was hiked up on the roof and his elbow rested comfortably on his knee, which held his head up. He looked more tired than ever, but at the same time looked happier than ever.

Underdog leaned back, putting his foot down, closing his eyes. He deeply inhaled, opening his eyes as he exhaled, looking at the sunrise.

“One of the only good things, living out here,” he said softly, “Manhattan all the lights block everything.”

Lewis only hummed in agreement. He was still too awestruck by how peaceful this scene was. Like something out of a movie, he thought.

“My mom used to come out here every morning and just write about what the sunrise was like and how it made her feel. She'd wake us up by opening the front door just as loudly as she could, scared my dad half to death,” he chuckled.

“I usually hear my mom’s alarm in the morning. It’s hard rock. It works.” Lewis replied, finally looking at him.

Underdog laughed a bit, “She like rock?”

“Absolutely not! That’s why it wakes her up, because it’s very loud and it’s so awful that she just  _ has  _ to get up to turn it off!” They both laughed at that.

After a bit more silence, Underdog spoke again, “What about your dad, he like it?”

“Oh I don’t… I don’t have one.”

“Oh… I’m sorry to hear that, Lewis.”

“No, no I mean that like-!” he placed his arms together, looking off, “My mom’s a lesbian.”

“Oh! How heteronormative of me, I’m sorry!” 

Lewis laughed a bit, “I mean… I guess I have one but… not like my mom will tell me who he is.”

“That’s fair,” said Underdog, voice calm and quiet, more than it had been.

It then went back to silence. The sky was moderately warm-colored by that point, blue just starting to creep in. The clouds had dispersed, but where still there.

“Remember the other night where I promised we’d talk about cartoons the next morning, and then we never did?” asked Underdog, no longer looking at Lewis.

“Yeah,” Lewis shrugged, kicking his legs.

“Well… what do you wanna know?”

“...did you like it?” he asked, quietly.

Underdog chuckled a bit, “It was fine.”

“Were you even around to see it?”

“Sure, I was in New York in the nineties!”

“It came out in the  _ nineties?”  _  He looked up and off for a minute, “It sure did, didn’t it?” he murmured, remembering all the signals that said it came out then.

“Hey, it’s not  _ that  _ old.”

“I watch shows from the 60s!”

Underdog laughed,  _ “What!” _

_ “Get Smart!” _

_ “Get Smart!” _ Underdog repeated, more astonished than loud. He hummed a moment. “I used to know a guy who sounded exactly like Don Adams, and it was his normal voice, not an impression. He was in a cartoon of yours.”

Lewis stared excitedly up at him, beaming.

Underdog smiled, chuckling. “Tennessee Tuxedo. He was a neat guy.”

“Is he still… alive?” asked Lewis, softly.

He laughed more heartily, “He’s been avoiding death already for thirty years, the afterlife’s too scared to take him!”

Lewis laughed a bit himself. That name sounded familiar, something about jumping out of a planes and a play about Plymouth Rock and putting your best friend in a dress and him rocking it and having way too fancy of a signature.

“Our shows co-existed for most of their lives. I mean, we never interacted when doing our voicework, not on set. I’d certainly catch him on his lunch break occasionally, he was a great guy.”

“Doesn’t that show have more characters?”

“Sure, but I didn’t know them half as well,” he shrugged, “Chumley was large and quiet. I was kinda scared of him. Yak was too, but he talked a bit more and proved less of a danger. He was dating Baldy and, quite frankly, what a role model Baldy was.”

“You’re a superhero,” giggled Lewis.

“Baldy was a transman who felt comfortable enough to be feminine and be open about it, he is great. He’s worn dresses in that show before!” his voice was full of admiration.

Lewis smiled. He was so glad Underdog had more friends besides Polly.

“There’s a bad part too.”

“Oh no.”

He tilted his head, sighing heavily, “1985, the government decided it would be a good idea to put not ‘pet’ animals like us into zoos, to torture them mentally, for human’s entertainment. You know prisons? Imagine prisons with a viewing center.”

“Oh god that’s…” his voice softened into a whimper.

Underdog shrugged, “They didn’t get very far. One in Manhattan, one in Brooklyn, they didn’t work because the inhabitants led too much of a rebellion- keepers came and went in weeks.”

“Did Tennessee rebel?”

“Of course,” he laughed a bit, “He and his friends went through more, peaceful, pranky, ‘can’t pin to a single person’ rebellion. Any physical fighters got caught and called rabid and got shot, so that went out fast.”

“They couldn’t shoot everyone who fought, could they?”

“Only the ones who didn’t outrun them. I don’t know if Jerboa was in any of the duel episodes, but Jerboa fought physically. He was a kangaroo rat, so he went fast. And he was very small, so he hid well. You leave fast enough and you hide long enough whoever’s chasing you will stop caring.”

Lewis felt surprised, even though he knew he shouldn’t. He fought crime, and once you figure out one way to do something right people copy. Underdog probably used it when his first shoplifting attempts went wrong.

“They killed the real Tiger Tornado. Jerboa got shot in his arm and ribs but he survived. He got transferred to Manhattan two years in as a punishment, and Megapolis Manhattan had an underground doctoral service going. Got his rib bullet removed.”

“What about his arm?”

“It wasn’t causing any harm so they left it in. When they disbanded he got it rechecked out, just in case, you know? They got closed down in 1990. Us ‘pet’ animals started rebelling too, in 87, government only made a move then,” his voice became more sarcastic as he went on, “Two years inside rebellion, three inside and outside… Not even that hard to close them down, two locations, fire the keepers, call a meeting, tell them to leave.” He sighed, rolling his eyes.

That sounded awful. Lewis could barely say anything, just stared at his feet, happiness gone.

“Well…” said Lewis, softly, “I’m glad they survived and that something brought light to it.”

Underdog smiled, looking at him again, “You always have such a positive outlook.”

Lewis was a bit surprised. Underdog, complimenting him? Wow.

“Anyway,” Underdog smiled, “There’s more real-based cartoons with happier origins. King and Odie. They were cool. I never knew them, not personally, but their show was nice. More exaggerated. Biggie wasn’t that evil or abusive… Itchy was definitely 4-f, but he had a good husband.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen that one,” he said quietly, “But I’m interested in anything that has queer representation in it.”

Underdog nodded, “If I remember right, Biggie and Itchy work for the king of their country now. Itchy’s brother was the king, cartoon exaggerated their rivalry. Klondike Kat, is Tom and Jerry, Go Go Gophers is more historical fiction, didn’t happen but may as well have. Tooter Turtle I never knew if they were true or not, probably not, at least not as magical. And I knew the Hunter.”

“The Hunter?” Lewis said, excitedly, “Horris is my best friend! I didn’t know his uncle had a show!”

Underdog just laughed, happily. Legitimately happily. Lewis started laughing too.

They were laughing and talking on the roof until the sky decided to stay blue. Underdog seemed more relaxed, and more importantly, more happy, than he had in the past days. Whether it was finally talking to someone who shares your interest after twenty years or getting loads of fresh air Lewis didn't know, but he felt just as great.

The Underdog got silent, happily humming and still smiling.

“What's wrong?” asked Lewis, afraid to set him off.

“I told you the story of how I got my powers, and the place is only a short walk away so… Thought maybe we could get some good exercise, go explore that.”

Lewis’ eyes lit up. “Like- now?!” He got louder.

“I mean, sure!” He laughed a bit, jumping off the roof, landing perfectly on his legs, though dangerously close to the algae-covered pond.

Lewis opted for the safer, yet probably more confusing and painful, way of getting down via car.

He was absolutely ecstatic! Underdog was happy! This would be perfect.

“You didn't happen to bring a flashlight, did you?” Underdog asked, stretching and yawning.

“No.”

“Time to bring out the good ole save children from not dying skills again.” He chuckled softly, Lewis quietly laughing too.


	11. Chapter 11

Underdog didn’t say much on the walk. But neither did Lewis. Lewis’ mind wasn’t really saying much either. He saw trees, and grass, and bushes, and sky, and he comprehended them, sure, but did he have thoughts aside from that? Absolutely not.

It was… a forest alright. The first branches were above the both of them, but Lewis figured they were just both short. Maybe at height of Underdog’s roof, at least. He wanted to climb them. He climbed the trees in Central Park all the time and injured his abdomen from having absolutely no wobbly-and-or-round-ground coordination at all. Polly always got so worried but Lewis never cared, that was part of the game. How far can you boomerang yourself out of a tree without breaking any ribs. A fun time. It was banned at school instantly.

Oh god. Polly. Polly was probably way more worried about him now than she’d ever been about his reckless tree climbing! It’d been  _ days,  _ oh my god! And he still didn’t tell her!! And he still didn’t have an idea of what to tell her about this! “I went to West Virginia because I’m a stupid idiot and a look-alike of my special interest might live their and I may have gotten killed, kidnapped, or mugged but I didn’t and also I brought him back!” Polly would never accept that. And it’s not like he had the service out here to call Polly in the first place, if he ran away to town looking for it, Underdog would just get worried about him!

...right?

Now wasn’t the time to worry about if he cared about him that much, he had more things to worry about!

Polly might’ve given up at this point, sad as that thought was. Manhattan was too big. And if that one guy and Underdog looked enough like him, imagine how many people might look even closer to him. Not many people were named Lewis but… if cartoons taught him anything it was that brainwashing was stupidly easy if you had bad intent.

That’s a stupid idea. Those cartoons are only  _ based  _ in reality. But what if it was true? Oh no.

He took a few quick steps forward to catch up with Underdog, and nervously grabbed his hand. Underdog seemed to snap out of whatever he was thinking about, looking down at him, but staying silent. He looked up, away.

“When I was a kid I absolutely tore the shit out of my stomach on one of these trees.”

Lewis blinked up at him, all thoughts fading. “What?”

Underdog nodded. “My brother and I were climbing trees and I started falling, stupidly thinking I could save myself with my pathetic noodle arms, and trying to pull myself back up just tore up my stomach and I fell anyway.”

Lewis laughed. “Yeah I... pushed people out of trees on purpose.”

Underdog heartily laughed, “Fantastic! Why did you do that that’s so mean.”

“Because when I was in elementary and intermediate I had a lisp and those were the kids who bullied me for it!”

Underdog made a noise of understanding before going silent again. What was Lewis thinking about, again? Before he could remember the thought the trees thinned out and it got brighter and brighter, until he and Underdog were standing at the edge of a large clearing. Lewis looked to either side, it was empty as far as he could see. When he finally looked forward he discovered the unprotected railroad tracks.

Underdog tightened his grip on Lewis, seemingly more for his own safety than Lewis’. He seemed hesitant to go over them. From the limited knowledge Lewis had of active railroads, he knew you’d hear a train way before you’d see it. And it was silent but for the sound of gentle breezes blowing dry leaves. He stepped in front of Underdog, still holding his hand tightly, looked back, and smiled. When Underdog noticed, he sighed, and cautiously nodded, letting Lewis guide him over.

When they made it several steps away to the other side, back into more trees, Underdog let out a heavy, nervous sigh. Lewis made a mental note that he dared not say out loud.  _ You crossed the thing that caused your father’s death, you can heal further.  _

Underdog didn’t seem to be having any similar thoughts. He was breathing deeply, free arm wrapped tightly around himself. When he finished he looked at Lewis and nodded solemnly. He felt a bit proud of himself. They continued walking, no more traumatizing roadblocks in the way. They made it all the way to said mine. A moss-covered wooden opening in the side of a relatively stout hill. Barely tall enough to fit Underdog, but nonetheless they went in. Dark, very dark.

“There’re some air holes a ways down,” Underdog muttered, “That’s light and good air.” He turned sternly to Lewis, “Do  _ not  _ lose me.”

Lewis nodded. They kept walking. Not particularly looking for anything. You couldn’t really look for anything if you tried, at least Lewis couldn’t. After a bit, they came across a large opening, an air hole dead in the center. It was moderately bright. There were three tunnels, Underdog looked around, stepping into the middle. He took in a deep breath.

**_“I BLESS THE RAINS DOWN IN A-A-FRI-CA!”_ **

Lewis bust out laughing. So did Underdog.

“I have  _ always  _ wanted to do that,” he said in between laughs, turning back to Lewis. Lewis went up, breathing deeply, readying himself.

**_“NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP, NEVER GONNA LET YOU DO-O-O-O-OWN!!”_ **

That just made Underdog laugh even harder. Seeing Underdog so laughy made Lewis laugh too. They laughed for a long time. Eventually they collected themselves, heavily breathing.

“Alright,” Underdog gasped, “Choose a cave to go down, and then we leave, alright?”

Lewis nodded, heading down the rightermost one. Underdog followed a few beats behind. Lewis was still very happy, and wasn’t really paying attention to where he was walking, more the walls. Caves were so neat.

Then the ground stopped. It was curved and sharp and only had hold on half his foot. Lewis didn’t notice until too late. He started falling forward, screaming.

**_“LEWIS!”_ ** screamed Underdog, immediately, running up and grabbing onto his closest arm. He pulled Lewis back as hard as he could, both tumbling a bit. Lewis panted, crying, terrified. Underdog too, without the tears, his grip not loosening.

“We’re going home.” he decided, not asking Lewis anything.

 

\--

 

Lewis didn’t know why he was still so panicked. He didn’t actually fall and it was ten minutes ago. 

They were midway to the tracks when a horrible, screechy, loud noise rang out. Underdog froze, terrified. Train whistle. He started breathing heavily, then took in a deep breath and stopped.

“Maybe we can beat it.” he said, more to himself than Lewis. Lewis wasn’t as hopeful, but then again maybe that was his anxiety talking. Underdog looked down at him just to make sure he was still there, and tightened his grip. His pace fastened a bit, but not enough to Lewis to be unable to keep up. When they got to the clearing, Underdog made a move to ready himself for a sprint.  _ He must’ve done this before his dad got killed by one,  _ Lewis thought but dared not say.

Before he could start going, the train whistled again, and swept up quite the wind as it drove by, unwavering. Underdog tumbled back, tears streaming down his face, heavily breathing again. Lewis understood what was happening. He was having a anxiety attack, and a bad one.

Poorly attempting to collect himself, Lewis went up next to him and hugged him tightly. Underdog seemed focused on the train, still going past. They stayed like that for a long time, long after the train had gone and was off whistling in the distance.

Still holding him, Lewis felt something negative, he couldn't pin down just what it was. Sadness and anxiety weird child, who knows. Whatever it was, it made a single thought repeat through his mind:

_ How can such a fun time turn bad so fast? _


	12. Chapter 12

Underdog was silent for the rest of the day. He microwaved food and then laid on the couch listening to his radio, not saying a word to Lewis. Lewis just laid in bed thinking for a long time, Don McLean’s  _ American Pie  _ playing faintly in the background.

Lewis couldn’t place what it was, but he felt a weird connection to the song, despite it being his first time hearing it in full. Maybe the dying music was Underdog. Maybe he was the lonely teenage broncin’ buck, or maybe he was the generation lost in space. Maybe his mom was the girl who sang the blues.

Maybe Polly was the flame to Underdog’s devil, she certainly seemed to be his “only friend.” Then again maybe Underdog was the flame to lifelong struggle’s devil,  _ “no angel born in hell could break that Satan’s spell!”  _ certainly felt like something Lewis could pin to his own anxiety.

It wasn't the song he expected to fall asleep to, anyway.

 

\--

 

It had been weeks. Riff and Taps had ditched their own apartment for couch and floor right next to couch, stay together should anyone have a realization. Polly had told them all the spots Lewis ever liked to be, Polly had told them how Lewis was anxious most of the time and if he ever felt in danger he’d get home fast as he could. They’d searched those areas extensively, Lewis nowhere to be found.

The only realization Polly had was then. Riff and Taps, quietly curled into eachother on the couch, staring at the screen of her boss giving news. A missing child report for Lewis had come and gone.

“My son’s dead.” She muttered, quietly, voice completely broken but with no sobs left in her.

“Don’t say that Polly,” Riff muttered, getting up.

“Why not? It’s true.” She stood, deeply inhaling, disappearing behind a wall. When she was gone, Taps sighed heavily. 

“Oh don’t you start talking like that either.” said Riff, though his voice was just as defeated.

He sighed again, looking at him. Riff frowned, moving forward to hug him. Taps grabbed back tightly as if he’d been longing for it. They embraced for a long time, not saying a word, the only sounds their breathing and faint more depressing news stories.

Eventually Riff pulled away, smiling, kissing his nose.

“Hey. I love you.”

But Taps looked too distraught to reply. Riff just frowned again.

“...we’re gonna find him, babe.”

He closed his eyes, shaking his head, “It’s almost been a month.”

“What’s time got to do with anything?”

“It’s just,” he chuckled, unhappily, “It’s been so long, Riff. So much can be done in a month.”

“That… That doesn't mean anything  _ has  _ been.”

“When did you start looking on the bright side of things?”

“Whenever my husband came home distressed about a son I didn't know he had.”

“...we aren't really arguing about this now, are we?”

Riff scooted off of him, crossing his legs. “I really don't want to but… we’ve been together what, fifteen years? And you didn't tell me you had a son in at least half of them.”

“You knew about the child support!”

“I knew about the child support seven years in!” Riff raised his voice a bit, then sighed, “I’m sorry, Taps, you’d be upset too.”

“...I’m not angry at you about this, Riff, I'm angry at myself. I was scared to tell you because I thought if you knew you'd leave me.”

“That doesn't  _ excuse  _ it.”

“I know,” he said, voice breaking, “I know. And I'm so  _ so  _ sorry I did that.”

Riff sighed, “It’s whatever. Can’t go back now.”

“I love you… I love you  _ so much, _ Riff.”

“I love you, too, Taps.”

He leaned up to gently kiss him.

“Is it bad I love him?” Taps went on, “Lewis? I’ve never even… met him. All we’re connected by is a contract. And… if he’s been kidnapped and we do get him back-”

“And we  _ will.” _

“-what if he doesn’t even want to meet either of us! I-I mean…. Who knows what his kidnapper looked like, and who knows how he’d react to you! Your criminality was telecast!”

Riff smiled, “I’m sure he’s a good kid. He’ll get it. Even if it takes a bit, he’ll get it… and William Taptap Clark, when Lewis gets back you will be a  _ great  _ father, whatever situation you and Polly figure out.”

Taps held his face, lovingly, “That’s my fear, Riff,” he let out a single unhappy laugh, “Vain as it sounds I think I would do good as a father. My fear is he won’t come back so I can be. And I’ll  _ never  _ get to meet him and protect him and love him…” his voice broke and tears he’d been holding back fell down his face.

Riff lunged forward immediately to hug him, Taps hopelessly trying to stop his crying. Husband hugging and cooing him, feebly wiping at his own face to stop the flood from his eyes to no avail…. he felt helpless.

“It’s alright, it’s alright…” Riff muttered, moving back, kissing his forehead, “We’re gonna get him back, I promise. Okay?”

“Okay…” he sniffed.

“I love you, Taps.”

“I love you, too…”


	13. Chapter 13

Underdog looked royally pissed that morning. It’d been a week since he’d been scared to death and back by a train, so Lewis could confidently rule out that. They were on the couch, Lewis eating his stale snacks, while Underdog had his elbow on his radio, holding up his head. The radio operators decided today was murder revenge anthem day, which may have been partial to the reason of Underdog’s expression. Though, in the weeks around him, Lewis learned he wasn’t half as creative as his poet mom, so that was off the table.

“Now what are you staring at?”

“You, you wonderful masterpiece.”

“Don’t you even start with that.”

Underdog leaned back and looked back at Lewis, smiling for a moment before going back to angry. “I can’t stop thinking about that guy who tried to assault you. I wanna rip his pathetic incel balls off.”

“That’s the most gruesome thing you’ve ever said,” Lewis said, shallowing the last of his granola, he shrugged, “You should honestly just kill him.”

Underdog quietly laughed, looking surprised for a second. “I thought you hated violence.”

“I have no remorse for people like that, especially if it happens first-hand.”

Underdog tilted his head in agreement, “I can respect that. Radical, let’s go kill a man,” he stood and grabbed his keys. Lewis jumped up, quickly following.

\--

Underdog didn’t seem hellbent on murder. A punch to the face, sure, but not any metaphorical blood on his hands. Despite Underdog’s “lack of muscle mass,” Lewis still knew well enough he could cause nosebleeds and all sorts of bruises.

Underdog parked on the side of the road at a building that looked like a fancy school. He shifted the gear into park and left the key in the ignition.

“Don’t get out and if you do don’t go in.”

When he got out Lewis slid over to his seat to look at his keys. He had a few keychains, and in all honestly Lewis figured the car key was the newest addition. The biggest was a gray square that said “I (heart) NYC.” Ironic. Another was a gold-colored plate engraved with  _ Gamma Prod.  _ Another was a metallic ribbon, half cyan and half purple. The last was a tiny rose-gold heart with P & U carved into it.

Lewis felt himself choke up. Ugh. He still hadn’t figured out what to tell his mom. He blinked a few times and realized, oh no, that choking was because he pulled the keys from the engine and the AC was off now! He shoved the keys back in, turning them, before pulling the lock on the door up, throwing it open and taking several deep breaths. Catching his breath, he looked over to the door of the building, Underdog and the rottweiler standing there. Not too far from the door but also not too far from the car. The rottweiler was just yelling at Underdog, his expression annoyed and angered. Underdog glanced over to Lewis in an expression of  _ get in the car. _

Lewis nodded to himself, quickly climbing in and pushing the lock back down, crawling back to his seat. The air still wasn’t on but Lewis figured that Underdog probably wouldn’t take much longer. A muffled voice came from close by. Lewis looked up. The rottweiler was saying something, knocking on the window. The window and his eyes were too dark for Lewis to see any malicious intent, though he knew he shouldn’t open. The rottweiler started pulling on the handle, and in what seemed like the speed of light, Underdog stood and ran from where he was on the ground, holding his mouth.

He grabbed the rottweiler by the back collar of his shirt, and by his sudden changing expression Lewis could tell Underdog hurt him somewhere below the window. He then grabbed the front of his collar, punching him from under his chin, and then punching the side of his face, throwing him away. Meanwhile Lewis leaned over and pulled open the lock. Underdog quickly climbed in and started the car, speeding off. He turned off onto a road Lewis couldn't see, already curled up and crying into his knees. Soon enough he felt the car stop, and heard Underdog shift to lean back in his seat.

Lewis looked up. They’d parked in front of a police station. He turned to Underdog, who had a hand pressed against his mouth. When he pulled it off, his palm had a red dot right in the center. He laughed unhappily, and swore, though he had no anger left to put meaning behind the word. He nonchalantly whipped it off on his cardigan.

“You’re bleeding,” Lewis said between sobs.

“And you’re bawling your eyes out, Captain Obvious. Come on, let’s go report that guy.”

\--

Back at the cabin, neither were any better. Underdog’s mouth wasn't bleeding as much and Lewis was all out of tears, sure, but neither felt any better. The only positive was that the radio had shifted to upbeat love songs. After one that Lewis didn't recognize ended, Underdog spoke.

“Who… are you?”

“What?”

“Who are you. I should've asked this sooner, especially taking you out in public… You’re just…. Some kid who showed up in the right time and place I was, and something told me I had to protect you because, good God, someone would track me down and kill me if I didn't. So who are you related to that would kill me if I let you get hurt, hm?”

Lewis laughed a bit, wiping his eyes, “Oh just some lady. She’s my mom, I don't know if you've heard of her, her name is Sweet Polly Purebred?”

Underdog chuckled. “Oh, good one Lewis.”

But Lewis didn’t laugh, he just stared quietly up at Underdog. Underdog smiled and looked back down. His smile immediately fell into horror.

“Oh, you’re being serious.”


	14. Chapter 14

Underdog was pacing around the cabin, loudly sporting something about how  _ Polly thinks I’m dead! _ and  _ oh my god, Polly had a child! _

In the meantime, Lewis pulled his phone out of his backpack, and leaned against the wall, reading, in absolute panic. Polly had send over fifty texts, over one hundred phone calls, and one hundred phone calls combined from two unknown numbers. Hesitantly, he went to call back. Polly picked up before it could even ring.

“...Lewis?”

Lewis felt tears pour down his face, voice cracking “Yeah…”

Polly’s voice was broken too, “Where have you been? Where  _ are _ you?”

“W-with Underdog. He’s alive. He’s here.”

“...wh-what?”

Lewis looked up. Underdog stood in the doorway, his arms crossed, looking sadly down. Lewis let out a shaky breath, “...yeah,” was all he said, stretching up to give Underdog his phone.

“Hi. I’m sorry,” was all he said, walking into the living room so Lewis wouldn’t hear.

\--

Lewis got his phone back in under an hour, however for the rest of the week Underdog didn’t say anything of it, or really, anything at all. That morning Lewis woke up after hearing a thumping on the roof, and after a few minutes Underdog came into the cabin and his room, dropping his backpack on top of him.

Lewis shot up, flailing to get it off his head, looking up at Underdog.

“Get up. We’re going home.”

“What?”

“I’m taking you back home, Lewis.” and without another word left. Lewis stood, flinging his backpack over his shoulder. He didn’t have anything to put in that wasn't already there. The front door was open, and outside the sun was well on its way to rising. Underdog pulled the trunk open, absolute sadness and exhaustion in his eyes. In the meantime, Lewis opened the passenger door and put his backpack in the floorboards, quietly following Underdog back in.

Underdog had pulled out all of the drawers from the writing desk in the corner, setting two holographic rainbow worn-out obviously-80s folders on the surface. His mother’s poems, Lewis figured. Lewis stepped closer, catching sight of a photo paperclipped on top of one.

It was a photo of four people, in front of the cabin, grainy but in color. In the foreground was Underdog- or, probably Junior at that point- and William. Underdog was the one holding the camera and only the upper half of his head could be seen. William looked as if he was fighting him for the camera. In the back were two happy, proud figures, both looked alot like the too. The taller, in a white shirt and suspenders, had a big tuft of fur just above his mouth almost like a mustache. His eyes were closed but he was smiling, eyes wrinkling. He was holding onto another Underdog-like person, with his freckles and all. She simply had on a pinkish sweater.

“Put those in the car, will you?” Underdog asked quietly, voice downcast but not broken.Lewis just nodded, grabbing them carefully and placing gently in the trunk of his car. It didn’t look like it’d ever really been used.

When he went back in, he jumped. Underdog was gone and there was a huge hole behind the desk. A… door. Underdog had hidden a door behind it. Lewis just stared, not sure how to get in and not sure he really wanted to. Underdog was on perfect bed, shoebox firmly in his lap, looking at photos with tears in his eyes.

He sighed, standing, handing the box to Lewis, who quietly delivered it to the car. Underdog grabbed his radio under his arm, looking around the cabin, breathing deeply in and out. 

He walked outside, looking up and down the place. He gave the doorframe a little pat, before slamming the door closed. He turned to Lewis.

“Whenever I die I’m going to leave you in charge of this place. Please never sell it.” those last few words were what broke his voice.

Lewis nodded, “I’ll fix the place up and use it as a summerhouse for my own kids. Is that good?”

Underdog smiled, nodding, wiping away his watery eyes. He walked past Lewis and started the car. Lewis followed and jumped in his own side. Underdog started reversing, careful to make sure he didn’t run into the pond, and turned to leave the forest.

“It’ll be a sad day when you die,” Lewis quietly muttered.

Underdog scoffed, smiling, and placed his radio on Lewis’ lap. Lewis kept completely still, nervously glancing between it and Underdog. But Underdog didn’t look angry or nervous in the slightest.

“You know where the power button is,” was all he said, starting to drive.

Lewis gulped, holding it and anxiously turning on. The last half of a song faded in. Lewis turned it up more.

“ _ All my memories gather round her- Miner's lady, stranger to blue water. Dark and dusty, painted on the sky, misty taste of moonshine, teardrop in my eye _

_ Country rooooaaads, take me hooooooome! To the plaaaace I beloooong! West Virginia, mountain mamaaaaa! Take me hooooome, country roooooaaads! _

_ I hear her voice, in the morning hour she calls me. The radio reminds me of my home far away… and driving down the road I get a feeling that I should have been home yesterday… _

_ Yesterday!” _


	15. Chapter 15

The apartment was silent. None of the three were touching, any tears, or really any emotion long gone. The tv was muted, unintelligible without sound, not that they were paying attention. 

Suddenly a knock sounded at the door.

Polly stood, opening it and immediately cupping her hands over her mouth, stepping back. There stood Lewis and Underdog, healthy, yet smelling disgusting. Polly looked up and down between the two, not that there was much of a height difference.

“There’s no need to fear,” Underdog murmured, his voice barely carrying, “Underdog is here.”

Polly choked up, her chest tightening. She hugged her son first, tears reforming, choking out his name. Lewis started crying himself, wrapping his arms tightly around her, burying his face in her ear. 

Meanwhile, Taps and Riff had stood. Taps was staring at Underdog, tearing up, while Riff looked almost at him, unable to make eye contact after everything. Underdog bristled at the sight of Riff, though said nothing.

“Lewis….” Taps choked out.

Underdog nodded, taking a few steps closer. “William? Is that you?”

Taps nodded, smiling, “I go by Taptap now. I guess you’re Shoeshine?”

Underdog looked back at Lewis, “To avoid confusion with him? Sure,” he shrugged, “But I’ve also been getting called Underdog for the past month, so.”

Taps went around the couch, crashing into him in a hug, crying. “It’s been ten years!” he sobbed. Underdog said nothing, putting one had on his crying brother’s back, nodding, tears forming at his own eyes.

He pushed Taps back and looked at Riff. “So what’s up with you? Trying to kill me again now that my powers are gone?”

Taps gave his muzzle a light bop, “That man is my  _ husband.” _

“You  _ married  _ a criminal?”

“I’ve changed my ways!” Riff retorted.

“Did you do your time in jail?”

“Yes! I got out early on good behavior and went to a therapist the rest of my time! I wouldn’t  _ dream  _ of doing anything like that anymore, and I’m  _ so  _ sorry I did!”

Underdog let out a breath of acceptance rather than forgiveness. Taps then stepped closer to Lewis, Polly firmly holding onto his shoulder in case she lost him again. 

“Hi,” Taps said softly.

“Hello.”

“This really isn’t,” he shuffled uncomfortably, “The way I had in mind of… meeting you. But, um, I’m your dad, Lewis. Sorry I didn’t do a very good job.”

Lewis shrugged, “You did a very good job of making sure Polly was alright,” he smiled, “And you’ve still got a long time.”

Taps opened his arms and, without a glance at Polly, Lewis readily accepted, almost crashing into him. Taps shuddered as more tears fell, all too happy to finally be holding his son. When he pulled away Polly closed the door and clapped her hands.

“Alright! Lewises you are stinking up my apartment and getting mud _everywhere!”_ she said, voice more comfortable and happy than Lewis had ever heard it, “You two are taking showers this instant!”

\--

“So… what’s the Lewis plan?”

Taps and Polly were each leaning against the wall of her bedroom. It’d been a few hours since Underdog and Lewis returned, now fully cleaned and with a moderate meal in them all.

“Because I… really want to start seeing him,” Taps muttered.

Polly tilted her head, “Well…” she said quietly, “I don’t think there’s anything that says he can’t visit.” she shrugged, “We switch him off every week?”

Taps nodded, huge smile on his face, “After a while. Both of them need to get used to Manhattan again.” he then stepped forward and hugged her tightly, “You’re the best ex…. Something I’ve ever had.”

Polly nodded, briefly pressing their foreheads together for good measure, before checking in on Riff, Lewis and Underdog.

They were on the couch, Lewis was staring down at his feet, Underdog was fiddling with his radio, and Riff was on his phone. Underdog was sat between them and didn’t look happy about it in the slightest.

Polly chuckled, “We’ve got a long way to go. But at least we’re going through it together,” she said before pulling Lewis and Underdog together in a hug, which Lewis quickly copied. Taps grabbed onto him to, Riff grabbing onto his husband. Underdog smiled, hitting the on button to his rado, tear falling down his face.

_ “And it seems to me you lived your life like a candle in the wind. _

_ Never fading with the sunset when the rain set in. _

_ And your footsteps will always fall here, along England's greenest hills! _

_ Your candle’s burned out long before… _

_...your legend ever will.” _


End file.
